


Falling For Forever

by Queen_of_mud



Series: I’d Like to Believe in all the Possibilities [2]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Its not too angsty but Riggins is an asshole™️, Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), Project Icarus (Dirk Gently), Seriously this boy needs some love!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 12:25:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_mud/pseuds/Queen_of_mud
Summary: He wasn’t Svlad anymore. He was Icarus. The boy who flew to high. He’d followed his heart instead of his wits, and in turn he flew too close to the sun. He strayed from his path, and this was his punishment.Svlad was more alone than ever before. They thought he was psychic, but he wasn't. He was just a puppet.(Blackwing fic)





	Falling For Forever

**Author's Note:**

> *comes back nine years later with a sequel*
> 
> This probably won't make sense unless you read part I.
> 
> \---  
> Title by C'mon by P!ATD and Fun.

The first few weeks weren’t so bad. All it was was questions, questions, _ questions _ . Most of the questions they asked were ones he didn’t know the answers to. Things like _ how do you know where to go  _ and  _ why do you follow your instincts.  _

_   
_ He wasn’t Svlad anymore. He was Icarus. The boy who flew to high. He’d followed his heart instead of his wits, and in turn he flew too close to the sun. 

  
That cheery little boy was gone. 

  
He did best when he didn’t try. If he let his mind wander, he might have the off-chance of getting something right by guessing. But all they wanted him to do was _ try harder _ . And when he tried, when he focused as hard as he could and begged the Universe itself to give him something, he always, inevitably got it wrong. 

  
They started shocking him when he got a wrong answer. They said it was necessary, but sometimes Svlad thought that they might enjoy the shocking a bit too much. He was just science to them. An experiment, a test, a _ project.  _

  
He missed his mother. He missed her voice. He missed her accent. He missed the way she smelled. He missed home.  His new reality was cold, unloving facilities, with no color and no life. It was itchy jumpsuits and nothing else to wear. It was never ending questions with no possible answers, and electric shocks when he got them wrong. 

  
Sometimes he asked why this was happening to him. But deep down he knew why. He could’ve left. He could’ve ran, but he didn’t. He ignored the Universe, he strayed from his path, and this was his punishment.    
  


»»-------------¤-------------««

  
He didn’t know how long he’d been there. Maybe weeks, maybe even months. He’d lost count a long time ago. When he realized that counting wasn’t worth it. Counting tended to give people hope. In a place like this, hope was like a weapon that only dragged you further down the rabbit hole. Hope just reminded you that there was no use in having any. 

  
And what can you do after losing hope? Svlad waited. He wasn’t waiting for anything in particular. He just waited for the next thing to happen, and then once that finished he waited for something else. He waited for a Pull, a Hunch, a Clue, but he got nothing. He lived his life floating from one thought to another. Focused on a future that he couldn’t even imagine as opposed to the cruel reality he faced daily. 

  
Svlad lived a life that no child should go through.    
  


»»-------------¤-------------««

  
Svlad found what he was waiting for in a book. Riggins, the man he’d met at the police station, came and visited him sometimes. He was nice to Svlad, in a way he didn’t understand. No one here treated him with much human decency, and the man who had put him here was nice. The first few times Riggins came to see him, Svlad got the familiar feeling of dread he first felt when he was eleven. He was the bad guy, the villain. But soon his nerves were calmed. He could never forgive the man for what he’d done, but he could appreciate the sentiment that no one else showed him. He was never Icarus to Riggins. He wasn’t science to him, he was Svlad. 

  
He was  _ psychic _ . Svlad knew he wasn’t psychic. He didn’t have a power, like everyone thought he did. What’s a power if it’s not something you can control? No, he most certainly didn’t have a power. A power had him. 

  
He did his best at the impossible questions they fed him. He guessed, and he mostly got them wrong. He got shocked, and then everything repeated. The same old cycle- over and over again.

  
And then something new came. A book!  _ Riggins had brought him a book! _ A book was an escape, a way to focus on something else,  _ anything else _ . A book was a story that wasn’t his own; he didn’t want to focus on his own. 

  
The story was about a detective. The detective wasn’t like Svlad, he followed clues and patterns instead of gut feelings and hunches. The first time Svlad read it, he solved the mystery halfway through the book. The protagonist had an awful habit of focusing on small, inconsequential events and clues instead of the big picture. He read the book over and over again, inserting himself as the detective. One time he’d imagine it as a noir film, with soft jazz always playing in the background. Another time, he’d read it as a thriller, with intense action and adventure. Each time he read the book, he changed it to fit what he currently needed. 

  
He overheard the scientists talking about him from time to time. They weren’t very wary about what they said around him, he was just a project after all. They said his performance had improved since he’d begun reading again. 

  
Riggins brought him more books. A new book every week. He tried to make it last, forcing himself to stop after two or three chapters daily. But there was always a hard day, a day where all he wanted was to escape. He always finished the book early and eagerly awaited the next Saturday when a new story would arrive. It was like clockwork. Saturday was a break from the strenuous testing, where he instead got to sit and read. 

 

The pattern never broke, until it did. He knew something was wrong when no one woke him up. Someone  _ always  _ woke up, always earlier than he’d like. Even on Saturdays, someone woke him to deliver the unflavored mush they identified as breakfast. But not today. The Saturday before, Riggins had failed to bring him new reading material. 

 

Wrong, wrong,  _ wrong!  _ Something was wrong. It was the first strong gut feeling he’d had in a while. The first he’d had since… since the night he was taken. It wasn’t as strong as it’d been then, but he silently thanked the Universe for not giving up on him. 

 

His first instinct was to try the door. This of course, was ridiculous- the door was always locked. But for some reason he, per usual, listened to his heart. The door was unlocked.  _ The door was unlocked.  _ The door was  _ never  _ unlocked before. After turning the handle, he immediately recoiled without even opening the door. This was different. Variation.  _ Adventure.  _

 

He should run. Get out. Maybe even go home. But he couldn’t. When he got caught- and he _knew_ he would get caught- they would punish him for trying to leave. If he stayed here, even when he knew he had the option to escape, they would know he was compliant. They would treat him better. _More books._ Books were for good behavior. So he did what he thought was the right thing, and sat on his stiff bed and waited for the man to come with his breakfast. 

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Waiting was getting him nowhere, he decided. He wouldn’t run, he’d just peek. A quick look outside the door couldn’t hurt anyone, right?  After all, all he’d ever seen was his room, the block they took him for tests, and the hallways in between the two. When he tried the door again, he was surprised it was still unlocked. He’d thought, maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe it’s all fixed now. But the door opened with ease like before. He carefully poked his head out, keeping the rest of his body inside the room.    
  
The hallways were as gray and blank as his room. As every room. He knew these halls, he’d seen them every day. But something was different when he was the only one in them. When there were no armed soldiers holding him at their heels.    
  
He was walking. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d left the room. He’d walked a great distance away from his room without even realizing he was moving. He went to turn back, he’d get in serious trouble if he was discovered outside his room. But something was keeping him back.  _ He was needed somewhere else.  _ __   
  
He walked through the halls tentatively, expecting guards to stop him at every turn. But it seemed the Universe had cleared a path for him, as well as embedded him with directions. Each turn he took was on instinct, but there was no hesitation before each decision. He went the way he was meant to go. Svlad wondered if the higher-ups even knew he’d left his room. Please,  _ please _ don’t let them find out.    
  
He’d passed several doors on his way there, all seemed inconsequential to him. When his motor ran out, when he was done walking, he was stopped outside a door that he just  _ knew _ was the one he was supposed to walk through. He hesitated.  _ Should he knock? _ That was the polite thing to do... What would he say to the person that opened? What if it was one of  _ them _ ? What if they were waiting on the other side of the door for him, and when he knocked they were going to snatch him up and take him back to his room and shock him and punish him for running away a-   
  
...the door was open. That made two mysteriously unlocked doors in the span of one day.  _ Some dangerous statistics _ , Svlad noted. He slowly pushed open the door. It creaked, and disturbed the otherwise silent air. He dragged his knuckles along the wall as he entered the room, grounding him to the familiar hallway. He was scared. The tugging had left, and took with it his confidence. He was on his own.    
  
He scanned the room. It was blank, the same as his in most ways. The symbol over the empty bed was different from his, and the jumpsuits on the shelf were another color. It was otherwise identical to his own. However, in the room devoid of color, a colorful blanket draped over the bedpost stood out.    
  
He sat on the bed. It felt exactly like his own, but somehow  _ foreign _ . He laid there, and he was comfortable. More comfortable than he was in his own room. Maybe it was because he’d managed to beat them, he was finally one step ahead. Or maybe it was because here he felt less alone, even though the room was just as devoid of hearth as his own.    
  
He was wrapped in the blanket that he didn’t remember touching, it’s warmth seemed to radiate happiness and home. And suddenly the blanket was a girl.    
  
Svlad screamed. The girl, who had taken the place of his warm blanket, laughed and shushed him. She tilted her head back when she laughed, and her chuckles must’ve been contagious, because soon enough Svlad was laughing along with her. When the giggling died down, they simply laid on the bed without speaking much.    
  
They didn’t need to talk, he realized. Svlad was more comfortable with the strange girl then he’d been in a long, long time. She just  _ fit _ in his life- like a missing puzzle piece he’d been searching for since he was a small child. The vibrations of the Universe flowed between the two, instead of bouncing off like they did to all the others.    
  
“I’m Mona,” said the girl. Perhaps she had become sick of the silence. Svlad didn’t didn’t find information very surprising. If someone had previously asked, he certainly couldn’t have given the girl’s name, but when the girl said it, it was perfect.    
  
_ Yes, of course her name is Mona. Silly of me to ever think it wasn’t. That makes perfect sense.  _ __   
  
“Svlad,” he replied. Mona did not seem to share the same feeling. Her face scrunched up in confusion, as she contemplated this.    
  
“Are you sure?” She asked. Her voice was like a whisper, like a secret that only few could hear.    
  
“I think so,” said Svlad. “But I suppose things are subject to change.”   
  
The two continued to tell each other about themselves. Svlad was thirteen. He enjoyed reading, and he was a detective. Mona was eleven. She was an actress, and enjoyed playing different rolls. She demonstrated her talent to Svlad, by turning into a banana, then a battery, and then a sandal. Svlad decided that his favorite was the battery. Mona played a convincing part.    
  
“Does it ever get lonely?” He asked.    
  
“Does what?”   
  
“Living as a million things, but never as yourself?”    
  
Mona seemed to think for a moment before answering. “I think,” she said slowly, “That all my different parts are myself. I’m always me.”   
  
Svlad decided this was the right answer. He wished he knew who he was like Mona did. Maybe one day he’d find himself. Hopefully it was someday soon.    
  
»»-------------¤-------------««

 

When the alarm sounded, Svlad had fallen asleep in Mona’s arms. He assumed that Mona had been asleep too, by the way she jerked up when the noise started.    
  
They must’ve realized that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He and Mona shared a common look. They were both afraid of what was coming.    
  
The alarm stopped. The door opened. Riggins entered. He was being tailed by two armed guards, but neither followed the man into the room. Svlad looked next to him, Mona was still there. He could tell she desperately wanted to be something else right now, maybe to escape punishment. But she stayed how she was, with her eyes pinned on the floor. She didn’t want to leave him alone.    
  
“Svlad,” Riggins started. “I see you’ve met Project Lamia.”   
  
»»-------------¤-------------««   
  
He didn’t get a new book for a month. He was revoked of dessert privileges. His door was double guarded from then on. And they grilled him with questions.  _ How did you get out of your room? How did you find Project Lamia? Why didn’t the cameras or the guards detect you? _ __   
  
Svlad told them everything that he knew, which wasn’t much. He missed his books. Mona came and visited him often, always in the form of a bug or a toy that was difficult to detect. She never dared turn into a girl in a place that she shouldn’t be. But sometimes she turned into a teddy bear or a blanket when he needed company. Once, she had the bright idea to turn into a new book for Svlad to read, but she got the letters all mixed up so the words looked like rubbish. He appreciated the sentiment. He reread his old books for the next month.    
  
Since he met Mona, he felt less trapped. He had a feeling that if he needed to, he could leave his room at any time. Although he was sure that he wouldn’t get very far, and he was much more afraid of punishment than Mona was. He had a feeling Riggins knew of his and Mona’s meetings, but he never said anything. When his month of being grounded ended, he had weekly arranged meetings with Mona. He began to feel hopeful again. Saturday’s were book days,  _ and _ Mona days.    
  
Their time together was strange. Sometimes they gave them tasks to complete together, ones that seemed impossible, but no different from the ones they asked him every other day. They usually didn’t use the electric shocks, but when they did, it hurt Svlad much more to see Mona get shocked than it did getting shocked himself. Other times, they simply let the two play together. They sat and took note of every twitch the children made. Sometimes they asked why one said something, as if it was significant.    
  
Mona’s favorite game to play was hide and seek. They were an even match; the world’s greatest actress versus the world’s greatest detective. They didn’t have much space to play, just the gym area filled with heavy machines. Mona would turn into a new piece of machinery, or a towel, or a barbell. Svlad would decide which one stood out, sometimes it was easier than others.    
  
This went on for a long time. Mondays through Fridays was the same old testing as always. Saturday was Book day, and Mona day. Sunday was testing in the morning and exercise in the afternoon. Repeating and repeating and  _ repeating _ . Over and over again. After meeting Mona, Svlad felt like his new life was bearable, acceptable, even fun. But soon it got old. As the two grew older, they played less on Saturdays. It became more tests and quizzes, and they saved their whispering for the evening, when Mona snuck into his room. She was Lamia, he was Icarus. He hated Icarus. Icarus made him feel sick. He felt less like Svlad every day, Riggins had ruined that for him, too. He wasn’t Icarus, he wasn’t Svlad, he was nobody.    
  
»»-------------¤-------------««   
  
When Svlad was fourteen, Riggins decided he was old enough to meet other subjects. He was introduced first to an old man in a coma. He was introduced to Svlad as Moloch, and he wondered what his real name was. The man couldn’t communicate, but Svlad was comfortable with talking to him as if he heard every word. He told Moloch about his days, about the scientists who asked him stupid questions, about his time with Mona and his new books. Talking to him without fear of rebuttal was therapeutic. Eventually he was comfortable enough with the unconscious man to discuss his personal life.    
  
He didn’t realize it until he said it out loud, but he could no longer remember his mother’s voice. He remembered she had an accent, different than how they talked in America, but it wasn’t British either. He remembered her long red hair, and her blue eyes. But he felt like the memory was broken. It was a memory of a memory, warped like a game of telephone.    
  
One would think that a realization as distressing as Svlad’s would make them sad. Svlad wasn’t sad, he was angry. He was furious. These men had the temerity to separate him from his mother, the only person in the world who loved him. Maybe she didn’t understand, but she was the only person who didn’t look down upon him for what he was. So yes, Svlad was angry. And he let people know.    
  
He screamed and shouted, to the point where he was afraid he’d wake Moloch up with his racket. He cried and wailed, and when the people behind the two way mirror turned on the com to tell him to shut up, he drowned them out with his noise. He hit things, he smashed everything that wasn’t important to keeping Moloch alive, and the Universe let him.    
  
Maybe the Universe was just as mad at __ them  as he was. Eventually they dragged him out of Moloch’s room. They pulled him through the halls as if he were no heavier than a pillow, no matter how hard he resisted.

 

They dragged him past his room, past Mona’s room, and past the testing area. It wasn’t until they dragged him past his own room that he realized they were going somewhere new.    
  
They threw -quite literally threw-  him into a room with soft walls. It was unlike all the other rooms he’d seen in the facility. It had no furniture or anything on the floor, and when the door was slammed behind him, he could barely discern the difference between the door and the wall. He didn’t stop yelling for a second, and the moment he was dropped in the new room, he continued kicking and punching the walls.    
  
He wasn’t tired, and he was sure that at this point he probably should’ve been. He knew for sure now, the Universe was angry, and he was a vessel for just a fraction of that rage.    
  
Eventually the spark died, not of exhaustion but of sorrow. He broke down in tears, an action that had occurred an uncountable amount of times to Svlad in the last few years. He missed his mother, he missed his life. They had taken it away from. How many others had they deprived of the life that he missed? Mona? Moloch? How many other children missed their mothers? Who were these people-to think themselves great enough to split up families?   
  
...who even were they?   
  
Svlad had no idea where he was. His inference that they were in America was solely based on the way people talked. He didn’t know why he was here. They thought he was psychic, sure. But on what grounds could he be kept there against his will.

 

Riggins entered. Svlad backed into the far corner and avoided the man’s gaze. His emotions kept changing the the hills on a rollercoaster, and he felt himself tipping over the edge into fear. His cheeks were still covered in hot tears, and Riggins towered over him like a hawk looks at its prey. He felt a sense of irony there, as the scientists he saw daily towered over him, but in a different way. They looked at him like an elephant looks at a mouse- still taller, still more powerful, but with a hint of fear in their eyes. Riggins wasn’t afraid. He was never afraid.

 

Possibly sensing his distress, the man kneeled down to Svlad’s eye level and gave him a shy smile. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he started speaking. It was the most uncomfortable that Svlad had ever seen the man. 

 

“We understand that you’re upset…” started Riggins. “And since this is your first time acting out in a way like this, we’ve decided not to punish you-”

 

“ _ Punish me? _ ” Svlad no longer felt afraid. The anger that filled him before began to return. “You keep me here every day, and when I have something to say about it, you want to  _ punish me _ ? I deal with your absolutely ridiculous theories that I can somehow answer the impossible questions you give me, and when I get upset, you  _ punish me _ ? I only have one friend, the only person I know who understands me, and I’m barely allowed to see her? And when I go where I’m supposed to go, I do something that you beg me to do every day with silly games, you  _ punish me.  _ And you know what? I’m sick of it. When you came into my home, when you took me as a child, you took me from my mother. Have you ever thought about that?”

 

He breathed heavily, and continued crying. Riggins had stood up, his face moulded into a shocked expression. He looked more like an elephant now, possibly afraid that the words had come from the Universe itself. They hadn't, thought. They were Svlad’s words, and he wouldn't let anyone else take credit for them. 

 

Riggins tentatively began to speak- quiet at first, then gaining volume as the man gained confidence. “We understand that you're upset,” he repeated. “But we did not  _ take  _ you from your mother. I don't know why you would assume such a thing. Svlad, your mother called  _ us.  _ She practically begged us to take you. She wanted us to help you. You have to try to understand, boy-  _ you are dangerous.” _

 

With that, he left. Svlad was left alone with his feelings. He felt- well, he didn't know how he felt. It was as if a hundred emotions fueled his heart to beat at the same time. He was confused, and angry, and sad. Riggins was lying, of course he’d been lying. That’s all these people did-  _ lie.  _ His mother would never do such a thing, he knew. But he could barely remember how his mother talked- let alone what her morals were. Everything he knew about her was from a child’s perspective. A child that idolized his mother, no less. He didn’t know anything anymore. Except for that he, like always, was alone. 

 

»»-------------¤-------------««

 

Svlad woke up to a jarring alarm. The lights in his room turned on, flickered, and turned off again. He heard commotion in the hallway. His room was nearly soundproof, but muffled screaming, shouting and gunshots could be heard from where he stood. The alarm drowned out any chance he had on understanding the words being said, but based on the volume, they seemed to be getting closer.    
  


The noise stopped when it reached Svlad’s door, drowning the room in silence apart from the wailing siren. He made an effort to make as little noise as possible, maybe who -or what- was waiting for him would pass. The anticipation killed him though, and he let out an involuntary whimper. The frosted glass window shattered on impact with something from the other side of the door, which burst open to reveal four men in matching jumpsuits.  _ It’s locked from the outside, _ Svlad managed to think.  _ Why did they need to break the window?  _

 

He had no time to deal with reason, though. He backed himself as far as he could from the intruders, who approached him, bouncing in each step. They said nothing, but pushed him to the floor and stood over him. 

 

Svlad didn't know what happened next, but everything he feared about the situation disappeared, and was replaced with indifference. All his sadness, loneliness and sorrow was drained from his body in a surge of blue light. For a moment, he felt happy and young again. He remembered how he used to feel as a child when he read new book, or saw a documentary. He remembered going to a museum with his mother and-  _ oh god, he remembered his mother. _ Her image was in his head now, it was no longer warped and augmented. It was  _ her.  _ He fought to hang on to the memory, but it disappeared with the others. His joy was drained, along with any drop of innocence he had left. The happiness he felt with Mona, the joy of a new story each week, everything he knew was gone. All his emotions, all his memories- disappeared. He was a shell.

 

They came back in a moment, along with a migraine that would torment him for the rest of the night. He had her in his mind, and he forgot.  _ Again.  _  He didn’t know what had just happened, but he knew that he never wanted it to happen to him again. He cried.

 

He didn’t cry for long, though, because a group of guards dressed in head to toe black surrounded the five of them, and Svlad was brutally reminded of the situation at hand. He was motioned to stay sitting by the oldest looking- the leader of the pack. 

 

“Let’s gettum, boys,” he mumbled, and the others followed his actions. With what seemed like one mighty sweep, the four of them took out five armed soldiers by kicking, punching and jumping on them. At one point, the smallest one grabbed one of Svlad’s bed posts, somehow ripping it from the remainder of his bed, and swung it around like a baseball bat. They were like ninjas, he thought. But, no- ninjas were agile and stealthy. These guys were like giants. They were wild and lawless, and they used brute force as opposed to trained skill. They were downright  _ rowdy. _

 

When the men had successfully knocked out all of the guards, they approached Svlad again. They were slow this time, showing that they weren't going to hurt him again. 

 

“You got a mighty fine flavor on ya, kid,” laughed the oldest. He was probably mid-twenties, with bleach blonde hair and brown peach fuzz on his chin.

 

“Fl-flavor?” 

 

“Yeah, man! You smelled so good, we could sense you three floors up!” said another. Svlad didn’t even know the building had  _ floors. _ Suddenly, the big picture gort much bigger. The kid who’d said it was much younger than the others. He was Svlad’s age- or younger. Mona’s age.

 

“Ignore him. I’m Martin. That one’s Vogel,” he said, motioning to the young one. “Over there we have Cross and Gripps.” The two nodded to him. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

 

Svlad felt like an airplane’s worth of weight had been lifted off his chest when he said that. He scolded himself for getting his hopes up so quickly. He barely knew these people, who knew if they could deliver. But for the first time since he was eleven, he allowed himself to have hope.

 

He followed the men through the hallways from a distance, they seemed to know where they were going, but he did too. At some point they unintentionally split up, but he wasn’t worried. They were both going where they were supposed to go. 

 

The hallway near Mona’s room was dark, illuminated only by an emergency light over each door. Mona’s door was unlocked for him for the second time in his life. He ran in, expecting to find her resting in the form of an inanimate object, but was surprised to find her eagerly sitting on the edge of the bed. She jumped up when she saw Svlad, and after a quick nod and wave, she followed him out the room. 

 

He heard people fighting a few hallways over, and then gunshots. He jumped at the sound, but Mona didn’t even flinch. She grabbed his hand and led him forward. They both knew where they were going, they’d been given a familiar set of directions in the pits of their stomachs. Svlad was worried, everything was going too well. Something bad was going to happen.

 

_...Something bad was going to happen. _

 

But nothing did. The two kept running where the Universe told them too. They ran into Martin and the others at some point, who were busy opening the cells of every detainee they could find. Svlad allowed himself to be pulled along by Mona until they eventually reached an exit.

 

And they were  _ free.  _

 

Outside, there was forrest. A large building was set halfway in the ground, a building that Svlad hadn’t left for the past five years of his life. The sunlight was barely peeking over the horizon, but it was more sun that he’d seen since he was eleven. He observed his surroundings, just as mesmerized as he'd been staring at the stars as a child. 

 

They were  _ free.  _

 

Mona was gone, but she couldn’t have- wouldn't have gone far. She was probably waiting nearby in a form that was more comfortable to her, a bug, or a rodent, or a leaf. 

 

Svlad leaned against the wall of the building. It was just for a second, he was confident that he was safe for now, when he noticed something etched into the stone.

 

_ Project Blackwing _

 

Two small words, carved in stone, barely legible unless you were searching for it- but it was enough. They weren’t a ‘they’ anymore. They were  _ Project Blackwing.  _ It was  _ Blackwing  _ who’d taken children from their homes. It was  _ Blackwing  _ who’d tortured him for years. It was  _ Blackwing  _ who’d taken him from his mother. Everything was whole.

 

Everything was connected.

 

He wasn’t Project Icarus anymore. He would never be Project Icarus again. He would never be anyone’s science, never be anyone’s experiment. He would never,  _ ever,  _ be anyone’s Icarus. But he couldn’t be Svlad anymore, either. Svlad was broken. He was a shrivel of a child who was lost and alone, and he would no longer be that child. That little boy was gone. He needed a new name. 

 

The winds of the Universe whispered one in his ears, blowing everything into its natural order. He decided he liked it, and with an extra pep in his step, Dirk Gently set off on his newfound journey. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!   
> Kudos are greatly appreciated, and a comment will absolutely make my day!!   
> Link to my Dirk Gently playlist in my bio!


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